


Mac - Blade + Stubble

by TANGOCHARLIE



Series: Jack Dalton's School of Infinite Wisdom [2]
Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, George Eads Appreciation Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:47:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22950454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TANGOCHARLIE/pseuds/TANGOCHARLIE
Summary: More of Jack Dalton's School of Infinite Wisdom featuring life lessons for his kids.
Relationships: Jack Dalton & Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016)
Series: Jack Dalton's School of Infinite Wisdom [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1644943
Comments: 14
Kudos: 66





	Mac - Blade + Stubble

**Author's Note:**

> For George Eads Appreciation Week 2020 - Family Moment
> 
> Yes, I know they mistakenly gave Mac a full beard on the show, but they were wrong. I refuse to accept it and have erased it from my canon.

After being benched for a month with a badly broken ankle, Mac missed his family. Everyone else on the team had been farmed out for various other ops with other teams, both together and separate, but they had been constantly busy on back to back missions. 

Bozer was given a day or two at a time to go home and make sure his best friend had everything he needed. Of course Jack had found a way to check in with Mac at least once a day, whether by phone or message. The rest of the team sent their best wishes and apologies for the extended absence. 

With a little nudging and brown nosing to Matty...and perhaps the use of unnecessary force against some foes, Jack managed to swing a couple of days respite to make sure his boy was taking care of himself. Sure he had some bloody knuckles and swollen joints to show for it, but anything that got him home faster without a stay at medical was a good thing. 

Jack burst through the door unannounced, bearing goodies for his partner. Mac had heard the engine of the GTO in the driveway, so he hadn't even looked up from his tinkering project.

“I checked with McClain, you are cleared for a beer.” Jack announced, arms full of beer and snacks. 

Mac responded without taking his eyes off his project, “I’ve been off the pain meds for weeks now, Jack. I just haven’t had a drink because drinking alone is frowned upon.” he added matter-of-factly. His broken but mostly healed ankle was propped up on the sofa, old gray sweatpants hiked up to his knee. His other foot was covered in a cozy wool sock, planted firmly on the ground. He absently leaned over and scratched near his injured ankle, still plagued by phantom itches after finally having the plaster cast removed the day before.

Jack approached the other corner of the couch and put his bags down, looking at Mac’s bare foot with a disapproving smirk. “I thought you were supposed to be wearing the air cast now.” 

“I am, but I’m not up and moving around. I will wear it then.” His unapologetic response told Jack that his intentions were genuine. "What were you doing at medical? I know it wasn't just to ask about my ability to imbibe. You hurt?"

"Naw! Nothing a beer won't fix." Jack rubbed the scuffed skin on his knuckles and sat down with two beers.

Jack further examined Mac’s exposed ankle, noting the dry red skin and obvious signs of excessive scratching. “If you keep messing at that, I’m gonna get one of those cones dogs wear after they get their nuts cut off.”

Mac finally looked up from his work with an exasperated smirk, ready to take apart all of the inaccuracies in Jack’s threat, but the teasing look in Jack’s eyes stopped him. He took the beer offered by his partner with a quick glance at the label, “ah, did you pick this one up out on a mission? You can’t get this brand anywhere around here.” 

“Affirmative. I grabbed a 6-pack on the way to exfil.” Jack told him as he offered the neck of his bottle for a quick clink in toast that was reciprocated. He looked at Mac closely for the first time, tilting his head like a golden retriever while he studied the blonde. "What's wrong with your face?"

"Nothing?" Mac answered and ran a mental checklist of his own features; an eyebrow wiggle, nostril flare, and lip twitch confirmed he was still himself. 

Jack reached out and cupped Mac's chin in his palm, squishing his cheeks between his thumb and forefinger. He manipulated Mac's face, checking each side for his own inspection. Jack brushed side to side with his thumb and made an offended face. "Boy did you get in a fight with a possum and get his fur all over you?"

"I don't follow." Mac shook his head.

"This!" Jack rubbed Mac's cheek with his palm. "These scraggly bristles you got all over your face."

"Oh." Mac realized, "my Norelco broke a month ago. I haven't gotten around to buying a new one."

"I'm surprised you didn't rig it up in true Mac fashion with extra parts you found around the house." Jack tried to hide his shock. 

"I did. Or at least I had. This is the same one I used back when we were in the sandbox."

"Really?" Jack's voice went up an octave with each realization. "Wasn't it your grandfather's? That he'd had since the eighties… before you were even a twinkle in your mama's eye?"

"That's the one. I'd sharpened the last set of blades until they couldn't be machined anymore. The battery went out too; I'd rigged it too many times and finally blew the motor beyond repair." 

"Wow." Jack was floored. "Why didn't you just use a razor?" 

Mac shrugged. "I did; I used one once a couple weeks ago, and it left a lot of paunful bumps and a few cuts. So I didn't use it again."

"Where did you find it? A dumpster?"

"In one of the hotels we stayed at." Mac started and was stopped by Jack's look of terror after hearing this information. "It was in the little wicker basket in the bathroom where they give you soap and shampoo and a toothbrush." Every admission warranted more exposition. The more Mac said, the more he realized it may have not been the best plan of action. "I grabbed it in case I needed the blades for something. It had two of them. It was pink." He dug himself deeper. "I figured if it was good enough for a woman's legs, it would work on my face."

"Son," Jack stopped and pursed his lips with a loud exhale through his nose. "While a woman's legs may be delicate and beautiful, they are a strong and powerful weapon and not nearly as sensitive as that baby's ass you call a face." Mac narrowed his eyes disapprovingly before Jack continued, "I wouldn't use one of those disposable razors to shave matted fur off a wharf rat, let alone your scraggly chin."

"Why would you-"

Jack cut him off, silently pointing out remnants of pink bumps and cuts that were healed but still visible if you looked for them, "that doesn't matter. What matters is that you are not gonna rip up that beautiful face with a hack shave job, Edward Scissorhands." He punctuated his thoughts with a playfully gentle smack on Mac's cheek. "Your face is your best asset, besides your brain, and no one is looking at pictures of your brain, so I'm gonna take you under my wing and teach you to shave like a real man. With a straight razor."

"I thought you said you didn't want me to cut my face up."

"I will teach you how to do it right. I just have to go home and get my stuff." Jack chugged the last three quarters of his beer and plopped the empty bottle on the coffee table with a satisfying thud as he went toward the front door, the rest of the beer and other snacks he brought forgotten on the couch. 

Jack had a mission. He'd always wanted a son of his own on which to impart his infinite wisdom. Mac was the closest he'd ever come to that; the boy orphaned by an already absent father that Jack took in as his own. His best friend, his partner, his brother, his _son_. Jack choked up at the last thought as he started his gigantic black muscle car. 

Jack had seen Mac take the ancient Norelco to his face every once in a while when they were downrange; everyone used electric shavers because it was just easier, but he'd never considered that it may have been Mac's _only_ option. The kid couldn't grow facial hair to save his life, Jack had never even seen him as much as stubbled, even if he had, it wasn't noticeable because it was sparse and blonde. 

In the long list of coming of age things Mac's father failed him on, Jack hadn't even considered shaving. Harry had bestowed upon him an ancient shaver and the means to use it, but that was the extent of it. In the expanse of knowledge in Mac's gigantic brain, that was all he had in the realm of shaving, and it broke Jack's heart. What else did he not know? What other fatherly life lessons was Mac not privy to? He could dismantle and reassemble any machine, he knew everything about every element in existence, he could build something out of nothing without a second's notice, but he had no clue about how to smoothly remove hair from his face using a blade. 

On his way back to Mac's apartment, Jack told him to take the longest hottest shower he’d ever taken so he could open up his pores in anticipation of the upcoming shave. Before hanging up, he backpedaled and told him to still take that shower, but to do it sitting down so he didn’t aggravate his ankle. 

After the initial sadness at the realization about Mac’s formative years lacking the essential father-son talks, he became excited that he was going to be the one to actually get to have these talks with Mac. He couldn’t wait to share this moment with his best friend. 

Jack walked through the door bopping his head and shoulders to the music that was playing gleefully in his head, naturally it was _Whatta Man_ by Salt-n-Pepa. He wet a couple of dish towels and popped them into the microwave, heating them to an untouchable temperature before shoving them into a lunchbox to keep them warm. Then he went into Mac’s room to check and make sure steam was still coming out from under the bathroom door. He grabbed a clean pair of underwear and sweatpants as well as the air cast before giving Mac his two minute warning by cracking the bathroom door and placing the items on the toilet lid before scurrying away to grab more stuff. 

The song continued to loop as Jack danced around, kicked his shoes off, and slid excitedly down the hallway to grab more towels from the linen closet. He spun around 360° and closed the door with his foot, draping two fresh towels across his shoulders. Final stop was back in Mac's room. Jack pulled off his own shirt, the movement reminded him about the excessive blows to his ribs on the previous mission. He took his armful of acquired items to the bathroom and hoped Mac would be too distracted to mention the bruising. 

"You decent?" Jack asked while knocking on the bathroom door twice. 

"Yeah, I guess. I don't have a shirt." 

"You don't want one, it'll get wet." Jack entered and wiped the condensation and fog off the countertop and mirror with the towel Mac was using to dry his hair. He gave Jack the stink eye. "Hey, you gotta be able to see to do this, man." 

Mac rolled his eyes, "and you have half a dozen other towels you could have used." 

"They have jobs. Now here." Jack opened the cooler and pulled a steaming towel out to hand it to his partner. "Put this on your face, open up the pores a little more. You're probably fine because you had a hot shower, but it's good practice." 

Mac unfurled it completely, steam escaping the towel despite the hot haze already present in the bathroom, "Are you trying to give me second degree burns on my face?" 

"It ain't that hot. Plus you're the brains, I'm supposed to be the beauty, so if you look like Deadpool, that helps me." Jack shot him a lopsided grin as Mac lifted his chin up to balance the towel on his face. "You wearin' your air cast?" 

"Yes, Jack." Even his muffled response sounded like an annoyed teenager. Jack wouldn't have believed it had Mac's response not been so querulous. 

"Good. Sit down. You don't need to be putting weight on that if you don't have to." Mac sat down and Jack knew his eyes had rolled at that moment even though they were covered by a towel. Jack placed a well aged leather bag on the counter and unpacked several items before placing his own hot towel across his face. 

"Mine's not hot anymore." Mac muttered through his towel. 

"Ok." Jack let his own fall from his chin into his hands before draping it across the back of his neck and letting the ends rest on his bare chest. He pulled Mac's towel down to his neck as well and gave him a nod to stand back up. 

They stood side by side, looking into Mac's bathroom mirror that was still mostly fogged around the edges. Mac wasn't sure why he'd agreed to this, he felt a little awkward being in his twenties and being taught how to shave by his best friend. Something he could have easily learned from a YouTube video. He didn't really have a say in it, Jack had made up his mind and was laser focused on his objective before Mac could even protest. 

While Mac felt slightly unsure, Jack felt like a proud papa. It took everything he had not to beam like an idiot. Despite trying to keep a lid on his excitement, his eyes sparkled. Mac pulled his fingers through the top of his unruly wet hair in an attempt to tame the towel dried mess, looking all of sixteen years old. Maybe ten after he got the mental image of Mac applying aftershave a la Kevin McAllister. He had to look down and pretend to wipe his face with the wet towel just to stifle the laugh that threatened to explode. 

"First step is to apply the shaving gel." Jack composed himself and began, grabbing the nondescript blue bottle and squirting some into Mac's open palm. Jack told Mac where to apply it, and stressed the importance of a high quality gel as he applied some to his own scruff. "You wouldn't think ol' Jack would be an expert at shaving, what with the way I rock the action hero stubble look. I learned from the best. My Gramps. Spent summers on the oil rig with him, and he didn't have the luxury of an electric shaver or this disposable grocery store crap. I learned with a straight razor." 

Mac stopped applying his gel and looked at Jack wide eyed. Jack returned with an exasperated, "well what did you think we were gonna use? You mangled your face with a drugstore disposable razor already. You're gonna learn the right way." 

Jack rinsed his hands and dried them on the towel neatly folded on the counter in front of him and nodded for Mac to follow suit. Once Mac's hands were dry, Jack handed him a straight razor with a heavy mother of pearl handle. Mac examined it and got a feel for it in his hands. He felt very intimidated by the shiny metal tool, but knew he had a good teacher who was eager to share his knowledge. Jack held one with a plastic handle and not nearly as fancy. He spotted Mac's looming question and answered it before it was asked, "that one is yours now." 

"But I'm ok with the simple one. This one is really too nice." 

"No, you're new at this, you're using that one. Besides, you need to use a good heavy one _because_ you're new at this. Gramps would absolutely want me to give this to you as a rite of passage. So you better take it. No buts." 

Mac resigned and brought the blade toward his face to await further instruction. Jack hooked his left arm over his head to his right cheek and used his fingers to pull at the skin near his temple. "You gotta pull the skin real tight. You're young so you wont have as much give or have to pull as hard." He paused for Mac to pull his cheek taut. "Now hold the blade at about a thirty degree angle from your skin. Apply gentle pressure, and go with the grain of the hair down to your jawline with a smooth stroke." Jack demonstrated and paused to watch Mac do the same. 

Mac hesitated and tentatively put the razor to his cheek and pulled it way. He released his left hand started over again, pulling the skin tight and bringing the razor to his face. He stopped again, letting his nerves get the best of him. "You got this, hoss. That razor is foolproof. Don't worry about it." With the new vote of confidence, Mac made his first razor stroke. "There you go. Perfect. Now keep going." 

He watched Jack rinse his razor and remove another line of stubble. Mac did the same until they finished both cheeks together. 

"Now for under your nose. You roll your lips in over your feef wike dis." He tried to say as he stretched his moustache area and shaved each side before Mac tried. "And watch out for that middle bit. It doesn't get thick hair and gets nicked easily." 

"The philtrum," Mac smiled, happy to give some information instead of just being the student. 

"Genesis. Phil was the drummer for Genesis." 

"No..." Mac corrected before he noticed the knowing grin Jack flashed, the one that comes after the terrible dad jokes. Mac snickered and tightened his top lip to remove his sparse stubble. 

They moved on with the chin and neck, Mac studying and mimicking every move of his mentor. 

Jack rinsed his blade a final time and dried it on the towel before he folded it back into the handle. He leaned in to the mirror to admire his work and make sure he didn't miss anything. Mac did the same, studying each cheek and his neck before flashing an impressed grin. 

Each man wiped the excess shave gel off his own face with the wet towels and discarded them in the bathtub. Jack flicked open the cap of the moisturizer and squeezed some out onto his fingers before rubbing them together to distribute it evenly across both hands. Mac followed. "What's this stuff for? Like aftershave?" 

"No, just a light moisturizer. Definitely not like aftershave," Jack tilted his head to the side with an amused smirk, "though that would have been hilarious." He patted the moisturizer onto his cheeks and rubbed it in lightly with small gentle strokes. He watched Mac study his technique and observed his student perfectly execute the same application. It was done. The father-son bonding moment went flawlessly. 

Mac had left his razor open and inspected it before closing it. He touched the fine edge of the blade to see just how sharp it was and hissed and recoiled when it left a paper thin slice on his finger. 

"It's a razor blade, dumbass." Jack raised his eyebrow at his friend in the mirror, "it's sharp." 

"Well you said it was foolproof, I wanted to see how sharp it really was." His tone became accusatory, "you let me run this dangerously sharp blade repeatedly across my face on my first attempt? Why did you tell me it was safe?" 

"I was confident you could do it, I just needed you to have that same confidence." Jack admitted assuredly. Mac shook his head, he couldn't believe Jack's trick worked. "Well just be glad I didn't give you any aftershave." Jack winked. 

"I'm honestly shocked you didn't. I know you were thinking about _Home Alone_. You've made way too many Kevin analogies about me to let this go. I mean look at my hair." Mac pointed at his slicked back wet locks. "Hell, I almost feel _obligated_ to do it." 

_"I swear to God I'll never tell a soul." Jack lowered his voice to hide his eagerness at the prospect._

Mac looked around as if to make sure no one else would see. He looked down with a silent chuckle and a tiny shrug of his shoulders, already embarrassed. With his eyes closed he faced the mirror with another giggle and attempted to compose himself one last time. Without warning he slapped both palms to his cheeks and screamed. 

Jack had to take a seat on the edge of the tub to keep from falling over cackling while Mac's face reddened with uncontrollable laughter. Once Mac finally caught his breath he shooed Jack out of the bathroom. "Now go, I feel like an idiot." He laughed again. 

Jack rolled himself to the floor, "dude, that was amazing. I can't even look at you now." He closed his eyes and laughed harder. Mac sat on the toilet lid, still cracking up. 

"Go. Get out." Mac kicked at Jack's arm on the ground between laughs, joy filled tears filled his eyes. "Don't make me regret this." 

"You already do." Jack yelled breathlessly. "You regretted it before you did it." 

"You're not wrong." Mac wiped his eyes with the backs of his hands, "but it was worth it." He offered his hand to help Jack up off the floor. Jack obliged and seamlessly transitioned it into a hug before he turned and left the bathroom. "Thank you, Jack." Mac called through the door just after it closed. 

"Back atcha, son." 

**Author's Note:**

> Since we stayed in the G rating, I got rid of Jack's more sensual advice about 5 o'clock shadow vs your woman's thighs. Maybe next time.
> 
> Sincerest apologies for the numerous mistakes and issues with keeping my tenses straight. I didn't even proofread this sucker, i just know i needed to put Mac and Jack, bare chested with towels dangling from their shoulders, standing side by side in front of a mirror out in the world somewhere.

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